Gray Town, Blue SkyYellow Headlights
by PyroFrenetic
Summary: Konoha was a gray city. We were smarter kids, colorful kids. And nothing went on for ever. NaruIno friendship/deathfic, AU.


Pyro: Not sure what to make of this, everyone...I started typing, and _this_ happened. Sort of naruino deathfic, I guess? Don't get to depressed or pissy. Apparently I just needed it out of my system, or something. Decided to post because these two don't get enough love as it is anyway.

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Konoha, though large and prosperous, always lacked any sort of intensity to me. It was dull and empty, a place without vivacity. My mind, at ten years old and ahead of its age was sure, that at some point, the city had been full of life and color, but that time had past, and now it was just like any other metropolis. Places like Ame, or Kumo. Or a house that was not a home.

At the time, I was good friends with a very odd boy who was being fostered by a young doctor named Shizune. He was blonde haired and blue eyed, like me, but his hair and eyes were darker in a way that made you think of August, where I might make you think of May. We were spring and summer.

Naruto -that was his name- didn't like to think much. Not about things he didn't already understand, anyway, but somehow he understood what I thought about Konoha very well.

We would often sit by the river near our homes -half a block away from eachother- and discuss the things the city was missing. Youth groups, community centers, _important_ things like charities or well run rescue missions and soup kitchens and the things that made you think of happy cities.

"City of Leaves, Konoha."

"This place is gray." Naruto would say in reply to my idle statement, staring longingly at the sky.

We spent our evenings running across bridges and through the wealthy neighborhoods, recklessly abandoning the need for words or thought, and trailing colorful streamers behind us, hoping to bring a little color to the night. Naruto always loved orange, and I always loved baby blue.

At ten, even at ten, I realized that routines and gray cities of leaves could not go on forever.

It started with a blaring horn. The climax, I think, consisted of twelve year old Naruto's scream, headlights...my eyes probably grew very, very wide. It ended with a lot of pain.

I feel white, now. I'm sure that through this tunnel vision, that blue speck is a sky somewhere past the horizon of the afterlife, and perhaps I'll see my mother soon.

Naruto loved the sky.

"No matter who, or where or why, we're all living under the same thing." he always said, "we're all here, in the same world. It's like the sky won't let anyone be alone."

I wonder what Naruto is going to think about the sky now?

_Most people describe rain as a pitter, a patter, perhaps even a splatter or a splash. But to me, rain sounds like the clicking of chattering teeth or the clacking of typewriter keys or the snip snip of scissors across printer paper. (Because they sound very different on construction paper, and an elementary schooler would know -though I won't be one much longer.)_

"_I'm glad it's raining today," I tell Shizune as we leave the cemetery, "It wouldn't feel right at all if it weren't."_

_Shizune, my wonderful, understanding foster mother, nods in approval. I say approval because I don't know if she fully understands this time around. She's never lost a best friend before, although I hear her uncle did die in an accident when she was six. _

_It has been pouring since three AM. I did not sleep at all last night, not a bit, and I don't think I would feel morally sound if I were able to sleep tonight, either. In fact, I don't think I would like to sleep again until my body forces me to._

"_I want to eat something bitter, and watch a movie." I continue, "And then I want to run in the rain with ribbons. Streamers won't work."_

"_Alright, Naruto. Don't catch a cold, though." Shizune cautions. How nice of her. It's odd she didn't stop me, but maybe she understands what I'm feeling better than I first thought?_

_Thunder booms in the sky. I copy the noise. Keechyeooooow. Thunder is a delinquent kicking a trashcan. Lightning is a movie theater projector._

_You know, I really hope, beyond hoping, that wherever Ino is, there's sky._

Pyro: Reviews are fine, if you please. If you enjoyed it, that's great. However, if you didn't, it's probably better to tell me what you think I can improve upon next time rather than just complaining, since the latter is _pretty useless_.


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